


Not in a Thousand Years

by dizzy



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-17
Updated: 2003-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3070478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's official. I officially suck at thinking of names. Written in thirty minutes - thirty exactly, hence the abrupt ending.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Not in a Thousand Years

**Author's Note:**

> It's official. I officially suck at thinking of names. Written in thirty minutes - thirty exactly, hence the abrupt ending.

“Tell me, Billy, would you ever say to me stop – if you loved me, you’d stop?”

Billy didn’t look up. “Tell me, Dom, would you ever say to me – yes, Billy, I’m obsessed with corny slasher films?”

“Corny? Corny?! Slasher? You do realize that we’re talking about the greatest piece of psychological horror film to ever grace the big screen?”

Billy still didn’t look up. Dom kicked him in the ribs, a quick little jab. He didn’t draw his foot back, but left it there, at Billy’s side, eyes squinched up as he tried to grab the bottom of Billy’s shirt between his toes.

Stretched out on the couch, two hobbits in their prime, eating stale chips and flat coke, neither of them willing to make the treacherous journey to the 7-11 and back.

”Lijah should have to. His house.” – was Dom’s opinion.

”Least he could do. We are his guests.” – was Billy’s.

They were in agreement. Elijah, unfortunately, was not.

And even if he had been – there was little Elijah could do about their lack of junk food, being that he wasn’t even home. As he so kindly pointed out to his mates, Elijah actually had a career.

“We could work if we wanted to.” Dom said. Billy shrugged. “We could. Both of us. Besides, we are working – that script –“

But he stopped talking and frowned. “You work.” He said. Billy assumed the comment was directed at him. He had to assume so. There was no one else around.

“I do.” Billy said. He was reading a magazine. A boring magazine. A magazine that was far less interesting than the foot pressing into his side. And the sparkly-eyed boy that the foot led up to.

Sparkly-eyed?

Sparkly-eyed? Billy tried figure out what fluffy, pink-laced, velvet corner of his mind that came from.

“You work. But I don’t. Elijah was talking to me when he said that.”

”I’m not working now.”

“I know. But you do.”

“You work, too.”

Dom was still frowning. Pretty boys like that don’t need to frown.

Billy reached down and grabbed the foot causing him so much distraction and feather-dusted his fingers over the bottom of it. Dom let out a howl. “Ticklish?” Billy said, still holding the magazine in one hand.

“Fucker.” Dom yanked his foot back, but he wasn’t frowning any more.

Billy stood up. “More coke?”

”Don’t think there is any.”

“Shit.” Billy sat back down, a little closer to Dom than he had been before. He tried to convince himself that he hadn’t done it on purpose.

“Let’s go see a movie.”

”Sure. Find out what’s playing.”

”I don’t really feel like seeing a movie.”

”Whatever you say.”

Dom began fidgeting again. He picked up the remote control and flipped through the channels. Billy thought about giving the magazine another chance. He dropped it on the floor beside the couch.

“Billy.”

Billy cocked his head to the side, looking at Dom. ‘Yeah?”

“Ever had a crush on someone?”

He laughed. “What a dumb question, Dommie, of course I have. Everyone has crushes.”

“What would you do if I said I had a crush on Elijah?”

Billy opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it. He shrugged.

“Nothing serious. Just… fancy him, you know?”

“Fancy, as in, you want to shag him senseless?”

”Something like that.” Dom grinned and wadded up a napkin. “Yeah, something like that.”

Billy didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He ignored the knot in his stomach, something that vaguely resembled dread, dead with a slight mixture of suicidal angst and teenage girl heartbreak. The kind of mixture that can be ignored but doesn’t go away.

“Never saw Elijah as your type.”

“I’m hungry.” Dom said, mournfully, dropping the subject just as quickly as he’d picked it up. “Little punk. Bachelor pad, my ass. He probably goes to mum’s to eat. We should do that. Drop in on Elijah’s mum. I bet she’d feed us.”

“You never know.” Billy wished that he hadn’t dropped the magazine.

“He’s not, you know.” Dom said after a minute. “My type, I mean. What if I said it wasn’t Elijah that I fancied after all?”

Billy began to have the sinking suspicion that Dom was just staving off boredom, that this whole conversation was just a way to liven things up. He resented the thought, but he couldn’t tell Dom that. I’m sorry, mate, but your blatant manipulation of my unspoken feelings for you upsets me? – he just didn’t think it would come out right.

“What if I said,” Dom continued, “What if I said, for instance, that it was Orlando? He’s quite fancy-able, you know, those fuck-me eyes of his.”

“I hadn’t noticed, actually. Hand me the-“ Billy gestured at the too-bright yellow bag on the table. Dom handed it to him, the plastic crackling loudly as it passed between their hands. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

”What time does that game come on?” Billy asked, grabbing the remote control. He found a channel and turned it off mute, flooding the room with sound.

“Not sure. Check the paper. Well, if we had one.” Dom laughed.

“You’re a lot of help, you know that?” Billy closed his eyes and sighed. Maybe he could just go. Say he was taking a walk. But of course that wouldn’t be very nice, leaving his best friend all alone…

”Or maybe Sean. Maybe Sean’s my type. Big guy. Cuddly.”

“Sean’s married.” Billy said, feeling as if he’d completely lost track of the conversation.

”Right, right. Well, forget Sean, he’s really not my type after all.”

“Damnit, Dom, I don’t care who’s your type.” Billy said. Soft and completely lacking conviction. He cringed at the sound of the words, at how they floated in the air around him, just as pitiful and just as untrue.

“Maybe, Billy, just maybe, my type – maybe you’re my type.”

Billy frowned. “I’m not your type, Dom.”

And then there was Dom – knees digging into Billy’s hips, hands on his shoulders, cocky grin much too close for comfort. “You’re my type.”

A mouth brushed against his – not even really a kiss, as if Dom hadn’t meant to do it, but of course he had, you don’t just kiss someone without meaning to. Billy frowned, feeling Dom’s hand move from his shoulder to his neck, and up. “Billy, you fucking idiot.”

“’m not an idiot.” Billy protested. Dom leaned down again, pressing their lips together. Longer, harder, but still not quite… not quite what Billy wanted.

“Now the question is, do you fancy me, too?”

Billy’s hand, as if out of nowhere, was suddenly on the back of Dom’s head. He pulled down until Dom was close enough – until it was just right –

“Mm-“ Dom said, after a full minute. “I, uh-“

He suddenly seemed quite flustered.

“I fancy you, Dom.”

Billy was laughing and Dom somehow managed to look lusty and bashful at the same time. He was grinning, a real grin, not an arrogant one, but a happy-surprised one. He leaned close and whispered, whispered right in Dom’s ear – “Not in a thousand years…”

“What?” Dom’s brow furrowed in confusion. Billy laughed again and rubbed his fingers over the short hair at the back of Dom’s neck.

“Earlier – the line – from the movie – ‘would you ever say…’”

Realization dawned in Dom’s eyes. “Silly.” He said, ducking his head down to Billy’s shoulder. “Can we move? It’s kind of uncomfortable here.”

Dom stood up, taking Billy’s hand and pulling him up too. “Hey, Bill, I’ve got an idea-“

Billy raised an eyebrow. “An idea? That can’t be good.”

Dom began - ”How mad do you think Elijah would be if we...”

-end


End file.
